A/N: triggering, don't read if this bothers you- stay safe kids. Comment if you think this isn't utterly terrible! Cheers!
2.47am. The neon numbers of the clock are too bright, searing. The twisting, cramping in her abdomen, searing.
Jolt from bed, bolt to bathroom. Quick, quick. Pyjama's down, head nods forwards, exhaustion and pain are crippling.
Lisa Cuddy glances at her watch, it's just after 3am, she has to be up in three hours, and at this rate, she'll be stuck in the bathroom till then.
It's her own fault, this makes it much worse. She's done it to herself. Again. Every night, around 3am, she regrets this, promises it's the last time.
Every night, around 9pm, she's forgotten the night before, . More? Little sugary pills. How can such tiny pills cause such pain?
For a doctor she is silly, she thinks, as cramps rip through her intestines.
"Recovered Anorexic" read her medical notes. Dated 2001. And she is, she really is. A few teeny tiny pills, that's okay. Her intestines don't work properly anymore, she needs the laxatives, it's not a problem. Really. It's fine.
Even she doesn't believe that anymore.